From Easter:
I went to my happy place today- the one where the roads are made of bricks and there are street cars and bars and tattoo parlors and cigar shops and my favorite local tea place and people. There are all kinds of people in this city. A lot of them offering warm smiles or even free chocolate milk for my girl. There's a lot of pain in this city too. Street corners lined with homeless people. Some of them look like me- young, white. I overheard a girl telling stories about her tattoos. "This one here? It used to be a ruined city to remind me of my shitty childhood." She laughed wryly at the end. I know it still hurts. And I hurt too- over things that haven't happened and things that have. But I feel happy here in this city. No one's pulling any punches with me here, not yet. They answer me straight and ask me hard questions and dare me to engage. I always feel more human when I do. My afternoon such a stark contrast to my morning. How is it I feel more safe in the arms of the city than I do in the arms of the church?
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